


Rapt

by spooninspoon417



Category: Bates Motel (2013)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Incest, Language, Multi, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 04:58:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1014370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spooninspoon417/pseuds/spooninspoon417
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan, Norman, and Norma get trapped together in Cabin One.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rapt

The door’s jammed. Betrayed by it’s almost century old hinges and rusty lock, not budging, even under Dylan’s oppressive size. He groans as he drives his shoulder again. Nothing. He turns. 

“It’s useless.” His tone is quickened from the exertion. 

Norma eyes him. It’s a look he knows well. “I told you to call the guy to replace the damn locks.” 

Dylan throws himself against the door back first and slides down to a sitting position. “Whatever.” He stares at his mother, then glances over at Norman, who’s standing beside her, flushed and almost panting. 

“What the hell were you two doing in here, anyway?” Curiosity always took the front seat when it came to their relationship. Dylan couldn’t help but be fascinated by it, no matter how fucking weird it was. 

Norma and Norman lock eyes for the slightest second. Just as quick, the connection breaks and Dylan’s fascination becomes confusion. 

“Well?” He notices for the first time that Norma’s…unkempt. The skin between her skirt and her shirt is visible and she’s barefoot. Her face is flushed, the same as Norman’s. 

“Nothing.” Norma answers. 

“Okay.” He gets to his feet and removes his gun from the back of his jeans. A small toss lands it on the motel bed, which is covered by that butt ugly yellow comforter. At the very least the bed linens are brand new. Dylan snorts as he pushes his way between his mother and his little brother. He disappears into the bathroom to take a piss. The door slams and Norma and Norman are left alone, at least for the moment. 

Norma tugs nervously at the hem of her shirt. “Damn it.” She hisses through gritted teeth. 

“I told you it was a bad idea.” Norman’s voice floats to her. “What was wrong with my room?”

Her fiery eyes find his. “That would’ve gotten us caught.” 

He laughs. They’ve been caught anyway. They ran away to Cabin One and they still got caught. He’s just glad she wasn’t wearing lipstick; if she had been, it would’ve ended up smeared all over his mouth, definitive evidence for Dylan’s inspection. 

The toilet flushes and Norman watches every muscle inside Norma pull tight. She’s wound up like a drum. 

“It’s too late to call anyone. It’s almost midnight. We’ll have to wait till morning.” Dylan’s being practical. He could just shoot through the damn door with the gun, but he’d rather not waste his already scarce amount of bullets. This room had a bed and a shower and a toilet. They’d be fine till morning; it wasn’t like they were trapped on an island run by cannibals or something. 

“What the hell did you even want, Dylan?” When he barged in here unannounced and jammed the door by slamming it too hard to get their attention. Thankfully, they’d been in the bathroom, out of his sight. 

“I don’t fucking remember, Norma! Does it matter? We’ll be out in a few hours; we have a T.V. Why don’t we just be civil with each other for a change?”

She glowers at him yet again. “Fine. Turn on the damn T.V.” 

 

They watch some late night movie that’s playing on some shitty cable station. There’s a cop and some woman and a villain with a stupid plot, but Dylan loses interest beyond that. He’s on his back on one side of the bed, his hands folded behind his head, his feet crossed. Beside him, Norma sits between Norman’s legs, leaning back against him. They’re giggling and Dylan has to fight the urge to look over and study them in all their glory. It’s stupid. This is what they’re like most of the time and really, there wasn’t room for all three of them to stretch out in this bed anyway. He sure as shit didn’t want Norma in his lap. 

Despite his struggle, his eyes shift over to them. Norman’s arm is across her collarbone and her hand rests on his, gripping at her upper arm. His other hand sits happily on her thigh, his thumb stroking in small circles. Dylan stops his inspection, but something rolls up tight in his belly, his mind’s eye running over the image of Norman’s long fingers touching Norma in a half-innocent half-lustful way. 

The movie drones on. 

 

He falls asleep. His dreams are full of darkness, occasionally broken by bright images he can’t discern. Noise breaks through, a somewhat distant laugh. It’s girlish and high pitched. Norma. His eyes open slowly and he realizes that Norman is gone along with her.  
He turns his head in the direction of the bathroom. Light peeks out from the slight crack of the open door and another laugh rings out. He’s on his feet before he has time to decide what to do. 

 

“Come on. It’s what we came down to the Motel for in the first place.” He’d followed her into the bathroom. Dylan had been the first to fall asleep and Norma had soon joined him, cradled against Norman’s chest. The late night call of nature had awoken her and soon enough, Norman had shown up behind her in the mirror, his hands firm on her hips. 

Now, his lips tease her skin. “Norman, Dylan’s right outside.” A giggle falls from her. 

“We can be quiet.” 

“That’s a bold-faced lie.” She chortles, but grabs him at the back of the head and lets out a low moan. 

He rolls his hips and the sound goes up an octave. “Norman.” She turns around and grabs him rough. Their mouths collide. Neither of them hear the door creak open. 

 

He doesn’t know what to say or feel. His little brother and his mother kissing, tongues dueling, hands groping. That’s what they’d been in this room for. Dylan swallows. That feeling coils in his belly again; the one that apparently couldn’t care less for biology or logic. This sight should be sickening, but instead, it’s erotic, and once again, Dylan’s drawn to Norman’s long, elegant fingers imprinting on Norma’s pale skin. He opens the door till he’s filling in the frame and that’s when they break apart, startled by the intrusion. 

The three of them stay locked in this second, unsure of the proper response. Norma’s the one who studies Dylan because Norman’s too busy studying Norma, ready to mimic her reaction. Dylan stands in the doorway, partially aroused, but mostly dumbfounded. He can’t even form a coherent thought. Norma breaks her contact with him and looks up at Norman. She untangles herself from him and slowly moves toward her older son. 

Dylan takes her in, step by step by step. Her long black skirt, her half-off blouse, her burning eyes. When she’s inches away, he realizes that she’s really fucking beautiful. Like other-worldly beautiful. Blonde hair and bright blue eyes and old Hollywood build. His heart rate doubles. Her hands fold around his and bring them to her waist. His fingers dig in. She runs her palms up his chest until her arms are firm around his neck. 

For some reason, the words if you can’t beat them join them echo through his head. The family he hated to love and loved to hate, asking him to join in their sordid fling. Absurd and still somehow tempting. 

He doesn’t kiss her lips. His mouth drops to her pulse point, his tongue dragging over the skin as his teeth nip. She shivers. He stops and for a moment, his eyes meet Norman’s.  


He doesn’t seem too excited about this development. Dylan raises his eyebrows and moves up to Norma’s mouth. The kiss steals every inhibition and soon, his hands get bold, pushing up her skirt and sneaking underneath. A moan vibrates between them. He doesn’t know if it was her or him. 

Norma pulls away from his mouth and turns half way toward Norman. Norman gets the message. He takes a stride and presses himself to her back. She takes one hand away from Dylan and tugs Norman down to her lips. 

Dylan licks his own, tasting Norma. He doesn’t have the strength to look away from their passion, so he takes it all in. Norman’s helpless grunt and the reflexive drive of his hips; Norma’s clenched fingers: five on his shoulder and five in Norman’s hair. 

He dives for her neck again as he pulls her barely there panties down. 

 

She’s in Norman’s lap again, except this time he’s naked and she’s naked and her body’s rocking over his at a hard almost gallop. She holds him tight around the shoulders as he guides the harsh movements of her hips. Dylan stands beside the bed in his boxers, transfixed. He’s trying to avoid touching himself, but it’s a losing game. To combat that particular desire, he presses his knees into the mattress and crawls to them, sitting up between them. They both feel the added weight and rip away from each other to address him. Norma’s hips slow down, causing Norman to groan low in his throat. 

Dylan glances from one to the other, thinking that this whole scenario should be more awkward than it is. He shouldn’t be enjoying this, right? Norman’s eyes fall shut and his lips part and Dylan isn’t sure if it’s morbid curiosity or some latent desire he isn’t aware of, but he kisses him, shoving his tongue in without consent. Norman tenses, then relaxes, returning the contact with fervor. It’s like kissing a girl; Norman’s so damn soft under Dylan’s hands. Still, there’s masculinity in the way he grabs Dylan behind the neck and keeps him there against his mouth. 

Dylan can’t hold back the sound he makes. They both feel Norma’s eyes on them, so maybe that’s why they keep going. Norma stops her movements and lifts herself away from Norman. Norman protests loudly right into Dylan’s lips. He rips the connection at the seams and looks over at Norma, who’s on her knees a few inches away, watching them. Her tongue pokes out and runs across her bottom lip. 

“Hey, come here.” Norman’s voice reeks of arousal. He’s on her, cupping her face and kissing her deep. Their kiss is softer somehow, full of genuine love and Dylan suddenly feels like the intruder he is. The lover’s embrace ends and Norman whispers to her. It sounds like ‘your idea.’ He shrugs as she slaps him lightly on the shoulder.  
She makes the next move, crawling over to Dylan and grabbing him at the waist. She lays down and pulls him on top of her and Dylan forgets how unwelcome he is. Her hands shove down his boxers as he falls into her mouth. Her legs trap him, wrapping tight around his waist. 

He stops kissing her. Hesitation stamps itself on his body. He didn’t want to hurt her; this wasn’t a gang rape. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Norman, right beside them, on his back, fixated on their lack of movement. Dylan smirks at him. Maybe it’s a power play, but it gives him the boost he needs and he drives forward, burying himself in her. The whimper she lets out will haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. 

“Fuck.” His tone is low, tortured. The thrusts he gives are gentle, deliberate and they send tingles through every nerve ending and light a growing inferno. Norman rolls over to face Norma and Dylan watches them practically float to each other, the pull magnetic. Jealousy tears at his organs. His movements speed up as he drops his face to her collarbone. From this angle, the kiss is almost in slow motion, like an old time romance novel come to life. Dylan closes his eyes and keeps going until the whole world turns white. 

 

Interestingly, they take three separate showers afterward. The clock on the nightstand is clicking toward three A.M. He’s the last out of the bathroom and when he returns to the main room, they’re curled up on the bed, Norma’s cradled in Norman’s arms, laying on top of him, one leg firm between both of his, her head under his chin. Dylan runs his fingers through his wet hair and tugs at the collar of his t-shirt. Nerves; why the fuck is he nervous? He just…it’s their intimacy, he knows. Not the sex, the closeness. They actually, truly love each other and that makes his whole body stiffen. They’re in love and what is he? The unwanted third wheel. 

He swallows as he climbs into bed beside them. “So…” Norma smiles at him. Her whole body rises and falls with Norman’s breathing. He’s already asleep. It’s just the two of them for once. 

Dylan bites his bottom lip. “How long have you two been…?”

“Three months.” It’s nonchalant, as if she were telling him how long it’s been since she worked out at the gym or something equally mundane. 

Dylan nods. That’s before he moved in. “And you’re in love with him?”

Her entire face softens a few more degrees. “Yeah. You’re…you’re not gonna tell anyone, are you?”

He actually contemplates the question. The problem with telling anyone is telling them how he found out and he’d be forced to keep several details to himself. 

“No.” He replies. She reaches out to him and runs four fingertips down his cheek. 

“Thank you.” 

 

He calls Emma at eight. Norma and Norman are still out cold. 

“Hey, Emma. It’s Dylan. Look, we have a problem.” 

 

It’s a strange thing, watching them stumble out into sunlight after being trapped in that motel room. Emma smiles big at them, still clenching the butter knife in her fist. 

“It’s good for you three that I’ve done this once or twice.” A laugh leaves her as she observes them, disheveled, still in the clothes she saw them in yesterday. 

“Are you all right?” It seems that that’s the first thing that should’ve left her mouth. 

They nod in unison. 

“Thank you, Emma.” Norma sounds distant, but still grateful. 

“You’re welcome.”


End file.
